


Warmth of Nowhere

by Zeradoreh



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Afterlife, Book 04: Rhythm of War Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, I'm still crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29103345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeradoreh/pseuds/Zeradoreh
Summary: [Post Rhythm of War]Teft opened his eyes and found that he was nowhere.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Warmth of Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Last warning for 'Rhythm of War' spoilers!
> 
> I don't remember the last time a character death hit me in the gut as hard as Teft's. I hope this little piece of inspiration does him justice.

Teft opened his eyes and found that he was nowhere. For one terrible moment, his scrambled brain wondered how much of the moss had consumed him this time. Who he had hurt. How he had betrayed his friends.

Then he remembered that he hadn’t weakened – no, he was just dead. That probably shouldn’t have made him feel as relieved as it did, but Teft had never cared much for what he was _supposed_ to feel. Maybe if he had, he’d have spent less of his life trying to escape it.

Teft grumbled, pulling himself to his feet. His hand absently went to the spot on his body where the blade had taken him. There was no wound, of course, and even if there had been, Teft was reasonably sure he was far beyond feeling it now. Despite that, he still felt a strange emptiness under his hand.

“Storming _Moash,_ ” he muttered, spitting as he said the name. It was somehow still satisfying even when he wasn’t sure if he really had a body. “I survived Sadeas. I survived Bridge Four. I beat the storming _Everstorm_ , only to fall to _Moash._ What justice is that?”

His voice echoed into the blank emptiness, briefly surrounding him. This was not Shadesmar, as he’d briefly suspected – or, if it was, the place was apparently different for dead men than for living.

_That’s what I am now—a dead man._

Teft waited for that to hit him in the gut. Instead, it seemed to him like the emptiness around him growled back in horrified understanding. In all of his years, Teft had seen more pain than most men. Damnation, he’d caused some of it. But nothing – _nothing_ – had ever felt like when Moash had turned on Bridge Four. What he had done to their family. What he had done to Kaladin.

“Poor lad,” he muttered, looking around at nowhere. “Don’t you fall apart just because this old man finally got some rest. Don’t you let him win.”

In answer, nowhere seemed to undulate around him. A wind suddenly blew through, buffeting against Teft as surely as any highstorm, and yet it could not move him. He thought he heard a whisper as it soared past.

_“I can’t. It’s too much.”_

Kaladin.

“Don’t you give me that, lad. Get on your storming feet and take that next step,” Teft demanded, his voice gruff to hide his sudden worry. He couldn’t see, but a pit in his stomach – or in the general area where his stomach had once been – pulled hard. “Kaladin!”

The boy couldn’t hear him. He knew that much. The winds blew hard around Teft’s ears, and he knew that if someone didn’t reach Kaladin soon, Kaladin would join Teft here. Teft couldn’t allow that.

_“Tien. Elhokar. Teft. I failed.”_

Teft swore.

“Storm it! Phendorana, what do we—?” he started, then stopped as he remembered. Pain lanced through his chest where his heart had been – pain that felt far too real to be from a dead man – and Teft sagged. He saw it again; Moash, brandishing that strange knife. Phendorana, kneeling, giving Teft everything she had. That moment their connection had broken.

Moash hadn’t killed Teft by stabbing him. Teft was dead the moment Phendorana was torn from his soul. Even if he’d have been left intact, he would have been nothing. Less than nothing.

_I don’t have time for this. The lad needs me._

Teft struggled back to his senses. He heard voices on the wind. He supposed that one must be the Stormfather, but the other was calling out to Kaladin, trying to get his attention. Was that…Dalinar? Kelek’s Breath, Teft had never thought he’d come to trust a lighteyes as much as he and Bridge Four as a whole had come to respect Dalinar Kholin.

 _You_ are _a lighteyes, Teft. Technically._

He grunted at his own conscience. That was _hardly_ the point. And anyway, his faith in Dalinar came from his belief in Kaladin. The world called that boy Stormblessed, and indeed, here, the very wind seemed to be arguing with itself over whether he should live. Teft cried out, trying to get its attention, trying to pitch in on the side of the spren that wanted to see Kaladin safe.

“Have mercy on the lad,” he begged. “Don’t let him fall.”

Warmth flooded him.

“He won’t fall,” a young voice said behind him. A hand fell on Teft’s shoulder, and he spun in shock to see a boy there. He was younger than Kaladin, even, with unruly black and brown hair that highlighted his wide dark eyes. They didn’t look much alike, but Teft knew this boy instantly.

“Tien,” he said, testing the name that Kaladin had only been able to bear speaking in Teft’s presence a handful of times. “So I really am dead.”

The boy smiled. It was easier to see the resemblance then. Kaladin didn’t smile enough – but when he did, it was this exact same grin. “Yes,” Tien said apologetically. Though he spoke in a near whisper, his voice could be heard over the winds as plain as day. “I’m not supposed to be here. Honor is supposed to meet the fallen, but, well…”

“…Honor is as alive as I am,” Teft grunted, almost amused. “Great.”

“Not quite, but close enough,” Tien replied. “I don’t know why they sent me. Your spren, Phendorana—”

“You’ve seen her?” Teft asked urgently. “Where is she? Why isn’t she with me? What did that bastard do to her?”

Tien’s brow furrowed, and his eyes took on a faraway look. “Dead spren don’t come here,” he said slowly. It was as though he was reporting answers given to him by someone else. “She is already Beyond. When you go, you will join her.”

 _“I failed._ ”

Teft longed for her. He longed to be free. But he couldn’t move on, not yet. “I can’t, lad,” he said. “Not while—”

“I know. You’re a good man, and I see why my brother loves you, Radiant Teft,” Tien said quietly.

Above them, the roaring argument of the wind got louder. There would be no conclusion, Teft realized. Not until it was too late.

Dalinar – it _was_ Dalinar – was pleading with the Stormfather, asking him to let Kaladin have more time, suggesting they show him something, anything, that might save him. Something to get him out of the cold of his own heart.

Beside Teft, Tien’s warmth radiated like a steady pulse of sunlight. It was as though this dead boy was life itself – more than Teft had ever been alive. And suddenly, Teft knew what to do.

“Dalinar…he can use the storms. He can give people visions,” Teft said slowly. “He can make them remember what they’ve forgotten.”

Tien tilted his head. Strangely, Teft was reminded of the princeling, Renarin. A swell of affection and pride, unexplained but unchallenged, went through him at that. “I’m not sure that I can do what you want me to,” Tien said softly. In his hands, he was turning around a small wooden horse. How long had he had that? “And if I can, you put yourself at risk.”

“What’s left for me to risk?”

Tien turned unblinking eyes upon him. “Eternity,” he said softly.

_Oh, is that all?_

“Go to him,” Teft said urgently. “Please.”

Then Dalinar’s voice and the Stormfather’s voice echoed so loudly that Teft could not understand the words. He slammed his hands over his ears and closed his eyes, bracing against the wind. Whatever Tien – the Stormfather – _Teft –_ was doing, it _hurt._ It was like Teft’s very being was being dragged from him as Tien disappeared, dragged along with the boy to the space between worlds.

Teft had lived through much. He’d even died. He’d _thought_ that he knew pain – but he knew now that he’d never experienced it. Still, though, he held at the connection. If all it took was a little eternal agony to help Kaladin, it would be storming worth it.

Tien tugged harder.

Teft screamed.

Then, suddenly, the heat and the wind vanished, and Teft was nowhere again. This time, it was cold.

Hours passed, or maybe seconds, where Teft sat nowhere, alone. And then he heard it – the most beautiful poetry in the world. How was it that he had told Rlain so often that he didn’t understand the singers and their rhythms? Teft understood now. What he heard _was_ the pulse of a beat—the rhythm of life.

Kaladin’s voice rang through nowhere like a clear bell. “ _I accept that there will be those I can’t protect!”_

Teft’s pain vanished. He opened his eyes. “Good on you, lad,” he muttered. “You’re the best of us. Don’t stop now.”

The warmth returned behind Teft, and the bridgeman turned to see the young boy, Tien, smiling at him through exhausted eyes. “We did it,” Tien said. “He’s going to be all right.”

“Nah,” Teft replied. “I didn’t do anything. And he’s still going to be broken. He’s just going to get a bit better at covering the cracks, is all.”

Tien gave him that smile again and held out his hand. “Are you ready?”

Teft took it. It felt natural, like a father returning to his son. “Phendorana is there?” he asked again as Tien gently led him toward a door that hadn’t existed a moment before.

“She is,” Tien replied. “At least, I think so. I only saw her once, briefly. I don’t know for sure what’s waiting on the other side.

“And…my parents?”

“I don’t know.”

Teft nodded. “What…what’s it like?”

Tien glanced at him.

“Where is it?” Teft asked again.

Tien said nothing.

They reached the door, and Teft put out his free hand, placing it on the handle. It felt solid as he pulled and the door opened. “Lad?”

“Yes?” Tien asked.

“Will you stay with me?”

Tien squeezed the hand he was holding. “I will. It’s what Kaladin would want. We’ll look after each other.”

Teft smiled, really smiled, for the first time in what felt like forever. “Then let’s step into the unknown, I suppose,” he said.

Tien paused. “What do you think we’ll find once we get there?” he asked. “Another world? More nothingness?”

“Only one storming way to find out,” Teft replied. Holding tight to the lad, he took a step forward toward the door’s irresistible pull.

“It’ll be an adventure,” Tien said, sounding bolstered. “One on which I’m glad to have company on at last.”

They stepped through the door.

“Journey,” Teft said softly, “Before destination.”

And then the door slammed shut behind them, leaving nowhere.


End file.
